


love language

by katarasvevo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Semi-Crack, dumbassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarasvevo/pseuds/katarasvevo
Summary: Like most getting together stories gone wrong, this one starts because of a friend, a drinking party, and a friend who used to be a friend but is no longer a friend.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 211





	love language

Like most getting together stories gone wrong, this one starts because of a friend, a drinking party, and a friend who used to be a friend but is no longer a friend.

(Precisely in that order.) 

* * *

“Um, can anyone tell me what’s happening to Miya right now?” 

“Get the camera. This is fucking gold.”

“Okay, maybe drinking all of this was a bad idea.”

“Dude, he’s going to flip if he realizes you took this video!”

“Guys, I think I need to piss really badly.”

“Everyone, shut up, I’m recording now.”

inunaki: **check this out**

**[video attached]**

sakusa: **[seen 8:05 pm]**

“This is why I don’t drink,” Sakusa mutters to himself, returning his phone to the nightstand so that he can go back to sleep.

* * *

When Atsumu comes to, the first thing that he registers is a dull ache gathered beneath his temples. Groaning, he brings a hand to his face, then winces. The soreness that’s made his limbs go all stiff is the second thing that he notices. Like he hadn’t budged an inch during the entire time he was asleep.

“Shit,” he says, as another flash of pain crawls across his vision. _Just how long was he passed out?_

After the sharpness of the ache has subsided into something more tolerable, his eyes open. The details start gathering into place, and—oh. Clearly he was more drunk than he thought.

Because he isn’t in his apartment—it’s Hinata’s. _Hinata’s._

Atsumu gets up to stand, but the suddenness just throws his world into a disorienting tilt, and he comes crashing down.

“Hm?” a voice says, and then footsteps are sounding across the floor, and then there’s Hinata’s concerned face staring down at him. His hair looks sleep-soft, and his eyes seem wide awake. “Hey, are you alright? You should probably stay put, Atsumu-san,” he says, helping Atsumu get back onto the couch.

“Fun night,” Atsumu says idly, yawning. Even though his memory begins and ends with a bottle, he assumes that it had to have been. Drinks are fun, parties are fun, so the effect should be compounding.

“Huh?” Hinata says. “Oh—yeah, it was.” He brings his hand to the back of his head sheepishly. 

(It’s not the time, but he looks cute. Like he always does.)

Atsumu pinches the skin of his elbow. The effect is not nearly as sobering as it should be.

“By the way, I’ve got to run! There’s something important I really need to do today, but I wanted to wait until you woke up,” Hinata says, looking very apologetic. “There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry, and you can use my shower if you want. And when you’re going to leave, just make sure you close the door when you get out. Obviously. And that’s pretty much it.” He goes on for a little bit about how they can hang out later, and then he’s off.

There are so many questions running through Atsumu’s head.

All of them needing answers.

But for now, Atsumu just stares into space. And tries not to think too much about the high colour that was on Hinata’s cheeks.

There was a party. Stupid stuff happened, like him being hammered out of his mind.

That’s about the extent of his recollection of the events.

“—and, like, I woke up at Hinata’s place,” Atsumu says, running a hand through his hair. Neither his heart nor his mind is focused on weight training; there are more important matters. “Which surprised me, but I’m not complaining. I’m just annoyed with myself because I don’t know what that means.”

Barnes stares. Inunaki looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You don’t know what that means?” Bokuto says, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, of course not,” Atsumu says, once again explaining why. It’s not his fault his brain decided selective amnesia was a fitting course of action.

Inunaki and Barnes exchanges glances. And then they start whispering. Fucking weirdos.

“But—but don’t you at least remember the best part?” Bokuto says. Knowing Bokuto, he’s probably referring to something that he did. 

“What, like your drunk singing?” Atsumu half-heartedly hazards a guess.

Bokuto laughs. “Yes—I mean, no, that was just the second best, but I was talking about the first best. C’mon, it was great, don’t you remember that awesome confes—”

“Bokuto, I need to talk to you about something really important,” Barnes cuts in loudly. He sounds stupid, enunciating every single word like a Google Translate voice. “And it can’t wait.”

“What, now?” Bokuto pouts. “I didn’t even get to finish.”

“Yes _now,”_ Inunaki insists, and then they’re herding off a reluctant Bokuto, to discuss God knows what.

Atsumu stares for a moment, and then shrugs. 

They’re gathered conspiratorially in a corner, and it feels like third grade again.

“Alright, what, guys?” Bokuto says. This is all so very confusing.

Inunaki starts snickering. There are tears in his eyes. “Don’t you get it? He doesn’t—he doesn’t remember what happened!”

Bokuto blinks. “Um, shouldn’t we tell him, then, so that he does?” 

Barnes shakes his head. “Inunaki says it’s funnier if we just let him figure it out on his own.”

“Oh.” Bokuto considers this for a moment. “But what if we just give him a hint—”

“No, that would ruin the fun!” Inunaki points out. “We’ll have to get everyone in on this.”

The next couple of days are confusing, to say the least. That’s not to say Atsumu is complaining; he really isn’t. In fact, he’s all for it. But the problem is that it’s doing a severe number to Atsumu’s heart.

Things with Hinata feel different now. Ever since Atsumu woke up at his apartment, it’s like there’s been some kind of _altering_ realization that Atsumu is not privy to. They stay the same for the most part, but it isn’t lost on Atsumu, the way Hinata acts around him. Like sometimes Hinata will let their hands brush, and then he’ll smile at Atsumu shyly, and Atsumu will quickly look away, unable to hold Hinata’s gaze for more than five seconds, out of fear he’ll do something incredibly stupid. Like kiss Hinata.

When they’re not even together.

And that’s the thing. Maybe they should be.

Unfortunately, the plan to confess doesn’t quite work out. Halfway through, his nerves give out, and he ends up going on about another topic entirely. It leaves Hinata very confused on what Atsumu is talking about, exactly, and by the end of it Atsumu kind of just leaves Hinata hanging. Because Atsumu clearly never learned how to not be an idiot.

“I’m pretty sure he’s upset with me now,” Atsumu says mournfully a couple hours later. They’re in the locker room. He wants to hit his head against a wall. 

“Nah, I don’t think he is,” Bokuto says, ever the optimist. “Hinata never holds stuff like that against anyone. You’re good.” He pops a handful of chips into his mouth.

“You’re not supposed to have snacks,” Sakusa points out. “You’ll ruin your diet.”

Bokuto continues chewing. “Well, it’s a cheat day.” He swallows audibly.

Sakusa narrows his eyes. “Is it? I thought your cheat day was yesterday.”

“No? I’m sure it’s today.”

“Really?”

“Guys,” Atsumu says. The two of them turn to look at him. “What should I do?”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t want anything to do with this,” Sakusa says irritably.

“Maybe just talk to him again?” Bokuto says, finally putting away the half-finished bag. “Sometimes the best solutions are the simplest.”

Yes, talking. Brilliant advice, just genius, why did Atsumu never think of it?

 _“Hey._ You were the one who asked.” Bokuto lifts his hands up. “Oh, I know! Maybe get him food. That always makes everyone feel better. I mean, I know it’d cheer _me_ up.”

Atsumu thinks: the idea is not half-bad. Especially since he doesn’t have any others.

In the end, Atsumu decides to get Hinata a cupcake with reconciliatory phrasing written on it. He means the message to be sweet. And to make it seems like he’s gone the extra mile, he even gets the words in Portuguese. It’s a damn great idea.

(Until it isn’t.)

“I got you something,” Atsumu says, lightly running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I just kinda left the other day, and I wanted to make it up to you. So.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Hinata says, cheeks dusted with pink. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It matters to me.” Atsumu hands him the box. “Here. I hope you like it.”

Hinata accepts the gift happily. And then he flips open the box. His expression falters. Silence falls between them, and—

“What is it?” Atsumu says, nervous.

“Um.” Hinata blinks. “I—uh—this was very … thoughtful of you, Atsumu-san.” His smile is more of a grimace, at this point.

“Shit.” Atsumu wants to run away in embarrassment. The realization dawns on him in that moment. The phrase is not what he intended it to mean. He’s going to kill the people responsible for the mistranslation. “What does it—what does it mean?”

Hinata explains it to him, and Atsumu wants to die on the spot.

“Goddamn it.” Atsumu is miserable beyond description. It’s probably not too late to become a hermit in a jungle. Build a treehouse, live out the rest of his days there. Osamu has a big toolbox in his restaurant. Atsumu could steal it. Osamu has so much shit, he wouldn’t even notice.

“Hey, I know you didn’t mean it,” Hinata says softly. His smile comes out in full force again, and his face is just as pretty as a sunset that it makes Atsumu want to melt. “I get it. Don’t worry. You were just trying to be sweet.” He squeezes Atsumu’s wrist.

 _I’m so fucking in love with you,_ Atsumu thinks, dazed.

* * *

“You guys lied to me!”

“Don’t look at me, it was Bokuto.”

“No way, it was Inunaki!”

“It was Google translate!”

“Hey, what are you idiots arguing about?”

“I’m out of here.”

* * *

After that, things are great. Normal. And that is when the second mortifying ordeal takes place.

One day practice ends, and Hinata leaves earlier than usual; he’s going to meet up with a close friend who’s visiting the city for the day. He looks so excited about it, it’s cute, but it also makes Atsumu Very Jealous.

“Who’s he really going to meet anyway?” Atsumu says jokingly once Hinata has gone. “A secret boyfriend?”

At this, everyone stops to stare at Atsumu. Sakusa sighs. Bokuto looks torn, like he has an important revelation to expose, but he’s holding himself back. 

Atsumu’s stomach drops. No. It can’t be.

“Wait, what?” Atsumu says, the horror evident in his voice. “Hinata has a boyfriend?”

Silence. And then:

“Since recently,” Barnes says, scratching the back of his head.

All this time, Atsumu was competing with another man for Hinata’s hand. Someone who has beaten him to the punch. And everyone knew about it. Except Atsumu. He doesn’t know which is worse. His ignorance or their culpability.

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Who’s going to tell him?” 

Atsumu imagines the look on Bokuto’s face is meant to be a sympathetic one. “I feel bad now, guys, just show him the video, it’s been four days. Jerks,” Bokuto whines, and Atsumu nearly does a double take. There was even a video?

Atsumu wants to bury himself. “I can’t handle this.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu has to leave. As of today, he doesn’t need friends in his life.

* * *

atsumu: **samu. SAMU.**

osamu: **what**

atsumu: **hinata has a boyfriend**

osamu: **….**

osamu: **(-.-) ??? congrats i know ok can you stop texting me? im at work**

atsumu: **WTF**

atsumu: **so even u knew about it and i didn’t**

atsumu: **traitor!**

atsumu: **this is a hate crime**

atsumu: **i can’t forgive u for this**

osamu: **blocked. muted. sorry i can no longer hear you.**

* * *

osamu: **do you have any idea why he’s acting like this? did he get hit in the head so hard he lost all common sense? it’s the only plausible conclusion i could come up with**

osamu: **[screenshot attached]**

bokuto: **oh yikesss. well apparently he was so drunk he forget everything that happened in the party >.< **

osamu: **huh**

osamu: **what an idiot**

* * *

Atsumu returns to his place to mope. He’s determined never to believe in love again after the fiasco that was the Reveal. Somewhere out there, Hinata is with someone who isn’t Atsumu, and Atsumu is here nursing a broken heart. Atsumu hopes that, whoever he is, he makes Hinata happy. 

Also, Atsumu wants to push Mystery Guy off a cliff.

He gets so lost in thought, he ends up falling asleep. Dreaming of Hinata. 

It’s the night of the party, and he’s just downed like a billion bottles, and he’s there feeling stupidly sentimental. Bokuto is singing in the background, and everyone is cheering him on. It’s a great song. The lyrics are inspiring.

So inspiring, that Atsumu gets up, and says he has an important announcement to make. Osamu is there, and he’s rolling his eyes. Bokuto stops his song so that he can shout words of encouragement.

Atsumu makes his grand confession. Across the room, Hinata is listening to every word that he says, and he’s beaming. His eyes light up, and Atsumu is a complete goner for him.

They end up together, and it’s a fucking dream come true. It’s perfect. Hinata goes over to him, and then he’s drawing Atsumu’s mouth towards his own, and then—

There’s a knock on the door.

The images disperse like smoke.

Atsumu sighs glumly, waking up from his nap. It was such a good dream, too.

“Coming,” Atsumu says, wondering who would be willing to visit him at this hour—to be fair, it’s only nine—and then he opens the door. His heart stops.

Hinata Shouyou is at his doorstep. And he’s wearing Atsumu’s hoodie—yes, Atsumu’s hoodie—that Atsumu only vaguely remembers Hinata borrowing.

(Atsumu doesn’t mind. It’s perfect. It’s perfect on him.)

“Oh, Shouyou-kun. What are you—what are you doing here?” Atsumu breathes out, his heart in his throat.

“I’m here to hang out with you!” Hinata beams. “I texted you, didn’t you get my message?”

Atsumu, out of reflex, holds the door wider. He didn’t get the message because he muted his phone, but he doesn’t reveal this fact. Hinata enters the apartment, gleefully oblivious to the battlefield that is Atsumu’s mind.

“So,” Hinata says, “what do you want to do—”

A thud, and Atsumu is on the floor, clutching at his cheek.

“Shit, I think I accidentally bumped my face against the shelf,” Atsumu says, cursing himself for being so clumsy, and then thanking his lucky stars when Hinata’s hands are suddenly on him, warm and firm and soothing.

“Okay, let’s see, and … ouch, that has to hurt, but I don’t think you’re going to get a bruise. The redness will pass,” Hinata says with a laugh, guiding him to the couch, and pressing his thumb lightly against the afflicted area. 

Atsumu’s throat seizes up. His pulse comes hard and frantic. He is so, so wrecked. Far-gone.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Hinata says. His hand is still on Atsumu’s face. It’s unfair for someone to be this pretty. His mouth looks so soft and pink, and in the lighting his eyes are liquid amber. Sunlit.

Because Atsumu is selfish and can only think with his dick, he wraps his fingers around Hinata’s wrist. Allows himself to give into Hinata’s touch.

“I don’t want to watch a movie,” he breathes out, his voice so low and hoarse and want-filled, he’s sure it burns right through his chest and into Hinata’s core.

Hinata’s cheeks redden. He must feel what Atsumu feels, too. “Alright. We can do this instead,” he says, leaning in, his eyes lidded half-moons, his lashes casting spidery shadows on the curve of his cheeks, and then—

“Wait,” Atsumu whispers into the space between their mouths. “We can’t—we can’t do this.”

Hinata draws back. He raises his eyebrows, confused. “Um. Why not?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Atsumu blurts out.

There’s a beat of silence like a held breath. And then Hinata is laughing. “Duh,” he says. “What’s brought this on?” He lets his hands return to his sides. “If you didn’t want to kiss me, you should’ve just said so.”

“So, who is he?” Atsumu says, and as soon as the words tumble out of his mouth that’s the precise moment where it all clicks.

Hinata pretends to think. “Let me see—well, he’s certainly not in front of me right now.”

The math starts to add up. The dream that Atsumu had. Why everyone has been looking at him like he’s the world’s biggest idiot. The way Hinata has been acting around him. The goddamn video they were all talking about—it was the recording of his very embarrassing confession.

Everything makes sense now.

“We’re dating,” Atsumu whispers, dazed. “We’re actually together. As in, together together.”

“You didn’t know that until now?” Hinata says, incredulous. “Oh my God.” He groans. “I can’t believe you. I thought you were just playing dumb.”

Atsumu has been on a roll, making mistake after mistake. He can’t seem to catch a break. A god somewhere has it out for him. He imagines a bearded man with judgement scales piling self-projected misery onto him. “At least I remember it now. Right?”

“I’m actually mad at you,” Hinata says, and his smile is passive-aggressive thin. It shouldn’t be this hot, but it fucking is. “Really. I am.” He turns his head away.

Atsumu wraps his arms around Hinata’s waist and places his head into the crook of Hinata’s neck. He could get used to this. The weight of Hinata pressed up against him, and the idea that Hinata is his. _His._ “I can’t believe _you’re_ mad at me for having amnesia, Shouyou-kun. It’s not like I could help it.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry?” Atsumu tries.

Hinata doesn’t budge an inch.

“I love you,” Atsumu says.

Finally, movement. Hinata’s hands are on Atsumu’s shoulders, and for one wild moment, Atsumu thinks Hinata is going to push him away, and then Hinata is cupping Atsumu’s jaw so that he can pull him in for a kiss.

It is everything Atsumu has ever wanted and more. 

(It is during this moment where it registers in a white-hot burst of clarity that Hinata Shouyou will be his utter ruin. And end.)

At last, they pull apart. Hinata’s eyes are practically black pools. Probably a mirror image of Atsumu’s. His breathing is slightly ragged, though they haven’t done much. Atsumu wants it worse. So much worse. He wants to take Hinata apart.

“Atsumu-san,” Hinata says softly, and Atsumu’s name sounds so perfect on his tongue—so, so perfect—that Atsumu can’t take it anymore, so he leans in to steal it right off of Hinata’s lips, pushing him down on the couch.

Their next kiss decidedly has none of the sweetness but all of the desperation of the first one. It’s rough, needy, and Atsumu just takes, takes, takes. He slots a knee between Hinata’s thighs. His hands roam everywhere. He gets right to business, memorizing the space of Hinata’s mouth, the feel of his skin against his own.

Atsumu aches with it—the want, the need, for more, more, more. Hinata is intoxicating, beginning to end, head to toe. Nothing beyond the tangle of their limbs matters. Just this: Hinata gasping into his mouth. The bruising clutch of Atsumu’s hands on Hinata’s waist.

“I want you on the bed,” Atsumu says into the column of Hinata’s throat, planting a line of kisses there. Hinata whimpers in response.

(They don’t leave the bed until morning.)

“Oh, great, he finally realized it,” Sakusa says, watching Hinata and Atsumu walking into the court holding hands. “The fun had to end somewhere.”

“Aww, that’s nice,” Bokuto says with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I dont remember writing this


End file.
